Ghost Time

was just about to pull out, on the highway, so I screamed it, loud as I could. Top of my lungs, I go, I love you, Cam Conlon! I waited, watching his car drive past our building, and I don’t know if he heard me or not, but it didn’t matter, because I know he knows, and I know he feels the same about me. And for the first time in my life, standing there, I thought, I am the happiest girl in the whole wide world . Then I saw my mom pulling in, and I groaned, Ugh. Mom’s home , and I ran inside to get dressed.

MONDAY, APRIL 4, 2011
    (TWO HOURS LATER)
    7:28 PM
    I don’t know what’s going on, but my mom’s been really stressed out lately. Like every day when she gets home from work, she’s so bitchy, and I know she hates her job, but it’s like, get off my case, you know? Seriously, it’s not my fault money’s so tight and we have to live in this shitty little apartment. That’s mean, I know, because my mom’s done what she can, but it’s still a dump—I’m sorry, but this place is a dump, at least compared to our old house. I mean, we used to have a nice house, with a garage and a garden and a front yard and a big backyard and two guest bedrooms. We even had a separate dining room we never even used, and now, sometimes I walk in the door, and I know how it happened, but I look around, and I’m just like, How did we fall so far?
    I wish she’d take money from my dad, but she won’t take alimony. Child support, but not alimony. We’ve gotten into it a couple times because I’m like, Mom, why won’t you take theman’s money? It’s the least he can do, you know? And she goes, Thea. You don’t even speak to the man, and you want me to take his money? I go, Mom, taking his money and not speaking to him is a much better deal, trust me. But she won’t do it, she won’t take his money, and it’s so dumb. Then again, I really admire her for not taking a nickel from the guy—I just wish pride didn’t require we live in a dive, you know?
    So I know the money thing stresses her out, and I feel bad, I really do, but still. She kept yelling at me from the kitchen about turning off the TV and doing my homework, and I didn’t say anything, but I was just like, Mom, please, you know this is my show, I only watch it every night . But I was in such a good mood, I didn’t want to get into it, so I said, Soon as The Simpsons is over, okay? Please, Mom? Because this is the best Simpsons ever, I said, whimpering—totally laying it on, right—and she actually bought it. I heard her close the oven, then she poked her head in and she goes, Which Simpsons is the best Simpsons ever? And I go, Me back is frontward ; the one with the Buzzcocks, I said, knowing that would get her, and it did. She goes, Which one is that? I go, Mom, the Sid and Nancy one, where Lisa’s Nancy and Nelson’s Sid? Come see.
    She walked in, drying her hands with a dish towel, right at the point where Lisa’s realizing maybe she’s not cut out for the life and death of a punk-rock junkie girlfriend, and I go, Poor Lisa, I wonder if she ever meets the man of her dreams. And walking past me, my mom goes, Poor Lisa ? What about poor Mom and the man of her dreams? she said, sitting down on the couch, beside me. And I go, What, you mean Rain Man’s not the man ofyour dreams? She looked at me, like, don’t start, and I tried not to, but I couldn’t help laughing, thinking about Raymond being the man of any woman’s dreams, and then Mom looked at me and goes, Come here—get over here, you, and she pulled me over by my arm, resting my head in her lap during the commercials. She started playing with my hair, and I let her, that’s how happy I was.

MONDAY, APRIL 4, 2011
    (TWO HOURS EARLIER)
    3:32 PM
    I took pictures this afternoon. I threw on this old shirt of Cam’s that used to belong to his dad. It’s Hang Ten, this brand from the seventies, and it has these big blue and yellow horizontal stripes with a floppy white collar, I love it. We went to the kitchen to get something to eat, and I didn’t feel like getting dressed, but my feet are always cold, so I threw on a pair of white knee-high tube socks, and then Cam snapped his fingers at me, doing this little shimmy with his shoulders, acting all groovy, and he goes, Rockin’ the seventies. And then I shook my hips, pulling out my imaginary guns, shooting him down: bang! bang! And I go, That’s right, baby. I’m too foxy for your love, and then he said something totally rude, but